


Red and Black

by AngeRabbit



Series: Black and Red [2]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M, Slash, dark!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeRabbit/pseuds/AngeRabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a kind-of follow up to <i>Black and Red</i>, and is a bit darker and more bleak than I would normally write.  That's a warning, by the way.  No sex, either.  (I can't believe I just typed that phrase...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red and Black

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ on 07/02/2008.
> 
> This is not the usual fare from me. This has been knocking about on my hard drive for months; I started to write it after I posted Black and Red but my muse went away (especially where this story was concerned). I think one of my problems with this had been worrying it wouldn't be understood. But a wise friend reminded me that not everything _has_ to be understood.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** BBC and Kudos pwn me in the “LOM is mine!” stakes. I would have got away with it if it weren't for those pesky kids, etc.

He had first noticed him standing across the street on the night the woman left.

Watching with blank detachment as she disappeared into the night, the only thing that had sparked any interest inside him was that figure. It was trying to hide from the street lamps; but he could tell from the shape of the outline, the way he was standing, that it was Tyler.

At first he was determined to mention the incident the next day, but felt a strange curiosity to discover whether it would happen again. So he kept his counsel and stole a glance the following evening while drawing the front room curtains. 

The figure was there. Exactly the same place. 

From then on, he kept watch; noting the distance between them shrinking as Tyler became bolder. The night he wasn't at the front of the house, his gut instinct told him exactly where he would be.

With one quick glance whilst shutting the bedroom curtains, he was able to determine a slight shadow against the back wall. He could see it was trying to blend into the brickwork, using the shed as shelter, trying to hide.

But Gene knew he was there. 

More than that, Gene knew he wanted him to be there.

Since Tyler had returned, it was obvious there was a change in him. Obvious to Gene. He recognised the signs. Saw them taking over Tyler; saw the light leaving his whole body. 

And the more he watched him, the more he wanted the situation to continue. 

Over the months, he initiated a bedtime ritual where he would undress with the curtains open. Light on, seemingly unaware of anything except his immediate surroundings. All the while knowing he was being watched; and knowing what was going to happen as soon as he switched off the light. 

The first few times, as Gene watched from the darkness of the room, just out of frame of the window, Tyler had done no more than stand and look up. But then on one occasion, he could see him moving. He could make out scant details, but Gene knew what it looked like when a man was pulling on his own cock in the dark. National Service was good for some things, then.

He could see the movement of Sam's arm; the gradual increase in speed, until the moment when he stopped. He watched with morbid curiosity as the retching began; noting after a few occasions that it was always a precise number of times. 

To begin with, Gene had done nothing but observe. Then one night, without even realising he was doing it, he reached for his own cock and started to pull and twist in a parallel rhythm to the shadow in the garden. Eventually, he was able to time himself to come at the same time as Sam. He imagined it was Tyler's hand guiding him to the edge, pushing him over; his seed spilling across smaller, softer hands than his own, his soft calling of Sam's name going unheeded by the one it was meant for.

Afterwards, he would stand and watch as Sam stumbled his way out of the back garden, automatically lighting a cigarette as he did so. And he would wait as he smoked; for he knew it would always end the same way. 

He physically flinched as the voice floated through the darkness to find him.

“You're a bad man, Gene Hunt.” She moved forward from the shadows of the corner; he could just make out her shape from the weak light pushing through the window. Red. Always red.

“What do you want?” 

“That's not very nice, Gene. After everything I've done for you.”

“Done for me?!” He blew out the last of the cigarette smoke, watched it dissipate in the air. “Why can't you just leave me alone?” 

“I made sure you'd never be alone, Gene Hunt. You should thank me for that.” She moved forward, closer, closer; he could see the pinched fury on her face. How could a little girl clutching a – a doll? – look so full of evil? 

“I didn't ask to come here.”

“You were dead! DEAD! **You** chose to come here. And what _was_ here, Gene?” The young girl stood alongside him now, fists white with rage as she clutched ever tighter to the soft toy held to her chest.

“Nothing. Just black.”

“That's right. _Just black_. Until I was kind enough to show you I existed. Then you had black and red. But that still wasn't enough; so everything here, this was all done for you!” She swept one arm outward, indicating the sights beyond the window. “This was what **you** wanted! Your own kingdom.” Sneering at him, her small mouth continued to move, as twisted as the words she spoke.

“All of this, for you! A kingdom fit for a lion. You wanted to be the big man, a proper man. Not like when you were living, that's why you came here to start with. Gene Hunt couldn't _be_ a proper man. Thought he could start again, by putting himself here. You wanted a city, I gave it to you. You wanted people who worked for you, who looked up to you, who worshipped you. I gave them to you!” She was shouting, screaming; pacing back and forth by his side.

“I even made people think you were married, because that's what you wanted! I even let Sam Tyler see someone leaving that night. He thought that was your wife. Funny how no-one else has ever seen your wife, isn't it Gene, and yet they still believe she exists? That's because I MAKE THEM!”

Gene pushed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the noise, trying to extinguish her presence. But she was still there, red and black, in her dreadful glory.

“All these people, surrounding you, and none of them can work out they're dead? That's what you wanted. So I don't let them know. None of them can work out that they've been here for YEARS and time never moves on? That's what you wanted.” She folded her arms in triumph as Gene fell to his knees, shaking his head.

“That's not what I wanted! I found myself here, and it was just - just darkness. Nothing but blackness. Then you showed up, with your skipping, and your innocent face, wanting to be my friend - and it was all red. Black, and red, wherever I looked. I didn't want to be lonely, I didn't ask for any of this!” He looked at her in desperation, eyes begging her to stop.

“But you still are lonely! Everything and everyone I gave you is never enough! All of this is built in your image, and you HATE that, don't you Gene Hunt?! Even Sam Tyler is here now because YOU wanted him.” Gene was looking at the carpet beneath his body; he could see her small patent leather shoes moving into his eyeline.

“You wanted him.” She spoke each word slowly and deliberately, spitting them out with distaste. “But you don't want anyone to know, do you?! The wonderful macho Gene Hunt, whose wife isn't real, who's never fucked a woman, but wants to fuck Sam Tyler?! You're a bad man.”

“I didn't ask him to come here, I didn't ask him to find where I live -”

“Oh you still don't get it, do you? You stupid, sad, lonely old man. Everything that happens here, happens because of you. **None of this is real.** Sam Tyler stands outside, wanking and wailing like the silly boy he is, because you want him to. I gave you what you wanted, and he wants you, but you can't bring yourself to touch him.” Gene could hear the hissing tone in her voice, and she scratched her nails down his arm, drawing blood.

“See that? Red. IT'S NOT REAL. I do all of this for you, because you asked me to. Everything you think, everything you do, I make it happen because that's what you want! And I hope you suffer. I hope every day that you wake up and know you're still lonely that it hurts. Your heart belongs to me, Gene. Don't forget that. You gave it to me the day you decided to come here.”

“That's not true!” Gene raised his head to look at her, a spark now blazing in his eyes. “You can't have my heart. It's not yours to take.” He pushed himself up off the floor, standing proudly in front of her. “My heart belongs to Sam Tyler. He may not know it yet, but he will. Oh yes, he will. Now leave me be!” He picked up a glass from the windowsill, flinging it at her; hearing it smash on the floor as it dropped at her feet.

The young girl began to retreat, still sneering as she moved. “You say that every time, Gene. You want to be a proper man, but you can't even tell him how you feel. Sad, lonely Gene Hunt. I don't want to play with you anymore tonight. I have much more interesting people to visit.” As she vanished back into the dark recess of the room's far corner, she spoke one last time.

“I'll see you tomorrow evening, Gene Hunt. Make sure you're ready.”


End file.
